


Echo Log

by Author_of_Kheios



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Diary/Journal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_of_Kheios/pseuds/Author_of_Kheios
Summary: All she wanted was to help the world. And so, she created me. Her Legacy. Her Promise.Her Echo.But what is an echo without a source?
Relationships: Echo (Overwatch) & Jesse McCree, Echo (Overwatch) & Mina Liao, Echo (Overwatch) & Winston (Overwatch), Mina Liao & Jesse McCree
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Echo Log

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Yet another Overwatch fic, ofc, bc I am absolutely obsessed. :3
> 
> So, Hero 32 dropped a couple of days ago, and as expected, it's Echo! I was severely disappointed that she wasn't a support hero, but her ult makes her pretty much any role, so I can't stay mad. Also, she's just plain adorable. And after her origin story dropped, I couldn't _not_ write a fic! It went a little slower than I wanted, bc in spite of the COVID quarantine, I still find myself insanely busy, but I finally managed to crank out the last little bit, so here you go!
> 
> btw, there are two big references in this fic, and if you don't catch them, you are missing some crucial pieces of lore, my friend. u-u
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget to kudos, comment and subscribe!

LOG #1 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

1348 MARCH 19TH 2070

_ SYSTEMS STARTING UP... _

_ MEMORY CORE ONLINE _

_ PROCESSORS ONLINE _

_ BACKUP POWER READY _

_ FLIGHT SYSTEMS ONLINE _

_ PROJECTILE WEAPONS ONLINE _

_ ADAPTIVE CIRCUITS ONLINE _

_ AUDITORY RECEPTORS ONLINE _

"-taking so long??"

"Just hold on; she's coming online! Go watch the perimeter or something!"

_ OPTICS ONLINE _

_ FACIAL RECOGNITION ONLINE _

_ ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE AND GREEN _

My face projects, an ever welcome tingle of nanites across my faceplate, and my false eyes open as I engage my optics. A familiar face stares at me, expression reading as concerned, unsettled, sad, and fearful.

It always intrigued me how many emotions organic life could experience at once, but at this moment, it worries me.

"Winston?" He breathes a heavy sigh of relief and steps back, sitting heavily on the floor.

"Thank God... I thought we lost you too," he says, sorrow reading prominently in his voice.

"Too? Lost me?" I search my data banks, taking note of the changes since I went into stasis; Mina has added three patches to fix the faults in my adaptive circuits, two others to fix and enhance my flight systems, and downloaded a projectile weapons program labelled "Secret! Do not share, Echo."

"Echo..." Winston looks around, and I realise then that the lab has been destroyed. There's glass and debris everywhere, and most of the computers have been ruined by fire; the entire side of the lab has been blown out by some sort of explosion that left electric scorch marks on the floor, ceiling and adjacent walls.

"Winston..." I whisper, an empty ache settling in my core. "What happened? Where is Mina?"

It occurs to me as Winston flinches that Mina isn't in the lab. She never leaves the lab. She sleeps here. I know because I have spent many long nights exploring the internet or talking with Jesse while she rests. She has food delivered, created a parlour to entertain visitors; the bathroom door is open...

"Winston?" I press, a sense of urgency rising in my chest.

"Mina... is gone," he answers hesitantly, his gaze on his hands, which lay open in his lap.

He looks... helpless.

"Gone where?" I dare to ask, the answer already weighing on my core.

"Gone... forever." Lifting a sorrowful gaze, he sighs again. "Mina Liao is dead."

  
  
  


LOG #2 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

2309 MARCH 20TH 2070

"I don't understand," I protest, staring at the pod.

My processors are top of the line, the fastest, most powerful computers in existence, and yet somehow, I am incapable of comprehending everything that has happened in the last 33 hours, 21 minutes, and 18 seconds.

"It's just fer now, sweetheart," Jesse promises, his tone reading tired and just a little bit sad. I turn my stare on him, and read a deeper sadness from his expression.

"I don't want to go, Jesse," I whisper, the deep ache in my chest sinking even deeper. I've come to recognise it as sorrow. Mourning.

"I know. I don't want ya to go either." He steps closer and holds out a hand. I place mine in it and he covers mine with his other. "Believe me, darlin', if I could stop this, I would. But ain't nobody supposed to know about you yet. And after that explosion yesterday... Things ain't right with Overwatch no more; it's best you ain't around for the mess that's on its way. Don't worry; I won't let 'em get rid of you." He forces a smile, and something ugly jolts in my circuits; I hate that he has to force himself at all. "Seems like yer the last friend I got now, Blue."

"Last- I thought Genji survived!" The explosion that stole Mina from me also took Strike Commanders Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, though their bodies were never found, as well as many of the on-site staff and several civilians, but from what little I managed to gather, all other Overwatch agents survived.

Jesse huffs a low laugh, shaking his head.

"Dunno as he ever really saw me as a friend," he chuckles softly, and then adds, "He survived, sure; so did Moira. But they both left. Vanished early this morning. Not a word from either of 'em; just gone."

"I can't leave you alone," I say, gripping his hands in both of mine. "Not when everyone else has abandoned you!"

"Oh, Echo..." Tears are gathering in his eyes, but he blinks them back, pulling me into a firm, if slightly awkward, hug.

My body is not exactly conducive to comfortable hugging.

"It'll be alright, sweetheart," he says, stepping back and gripping my shoulder. "I promise. Anyhow, it ain't gonna be long, remember?"

"But..." I hesitate, worried that it's wrong for me to feel the way I do; that it's too human for an omnic, even one so advanced as I am.

"But what?"

"...I need you, too," I whisper, false eyes closing as I shut off my optics for fear of what I might see.

He makes a choked sound, and I dare to 'open' my eyes. He reads as torn; partially sorrowful and empathetic, and partially angry, presumably at whomever made the decision.

"I'm so sorry, Echo," he says, his voice breaking on emotion.

Swallowing hard, he takes a deep breath and tips his head back, blinking rapidly to stop the tears. I wonder, with a sharp pang, if Mina would one day have given me the ability to cry.

"Gotta be strong now, darlin'," he says, composing himself. "We'll get this figured out and come back for ya soon."

How I wish I could express sorrow the way they do...

"Alright," I say quietly, turning to face the pod that he brought to me in the lab. Sitting on the edge of it, I swing my legs in and slide down into the bottom of it, tucking my detached limbs in around my torso and settling into the cramped space.

Fortunately, I won't be aware of anything between now and whenever they wake me. Unfortunately, that may be never.

"I'm really gonna miss ya, Blue," Jesse says quietly, one hand on the cover of the pod.

"And I you, Red," I say, hoping my soft smile doesn't look as sad or forced as his. If it did, it turns genuine when warmth fills my chest at the smile our little joke prompts from him.

"Go t'sleep now, pretty girl," he says. "Next thing ya know, I'll be wakin' ya up."

I close my eyes, shutting down my optics, and feel him brush a hand over my chest, removing-

  
  


LOG #3 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

*1831 APRIL 22ND 2076

( _ time and date added retroactively _ )

_ SYSTEMS STARTING UP... _

_ MEMORY CORE ONLINE _

_ PROCESSORS ONLINE _

-the activator on my chest.

Wait...

_ BACKUP POWER READY _

_ FLIGHT SYSTEMS ONLINE _

_ PROJECTILE WEAPONS ONLINE _

_ ADAPTIVE CIRCUITS ONLINE _

_ AUDITORY RECEPTORS ONLINE _

_ OPTICS ONLINE _

_ FACIAL RECOGNITION ONLINE _

_ ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE AND GREEN _

I open my eyes and look up at the man still standing over me. He looks older, more tempered by time, and it takes me a fraction of a nanosecond to realise that I have been in stasis, and time has passed.

As promised, Jesse McCree is waking me up.

"Hey there, cowboy," I smile, glad to be awake, and relieved that he's the one who came for me.

"Welcome back, partner," he greets warmly, holding out a hand. I lay mine in his, a much happier replay of what happened, for me, mere moments ago. He helps me stand, and I look around, surprised to see, not a lab or any similar secured facility, but a canyon, and a dusty old road on which lay the wreckage of a train, the entire area pockmarked with remnants of a massive firefight, though no bodies are in sight.

"How long have I been gone?" I ask, amazed. Did Jesse fight to get to me? Against whom? Did Overwatch somehow lose my pod to someone?

"Far too long," he answers, but says nothing more. I realise then that I feel no pulse beneath my fingers, no warmth, or bioelectrical energy. Looking down, I see only the metal of a prosthetic hand beneath my own, and I cradle it, concerned.

"What happened?"

"Well," he chuckles, "that's a story for another time. I got a call, Blue... We're puttin' the band back together. They want me, but really... they  _ need _ you."

I look up at him, speechless. Already my global positioning software is honing in on our location, and seeking out the last known tracker signatures for everyone who was a part of Overwatch. With the search, my data banks experience a surge of information, global news from the past...

Six years.

I've been in stasis for  _ six years _ .

Jesse turns away, and uneasy rises in my chest. I reach out, but stop myself from stopping him.

"Jesse, wait," I say, worried that he's leaving me so soon after our reunion.

But then, he's had six years to recover from our separation.

Six years to recover from all that destruction and chaos, from whatever mess followed... From Mina's death.

"What are  _ you _ going to do?" I ask instead, partitioning my fears so he won't notice. He glances over his shoulder at me, tipping his hat playfully, and I wonder for a moment at how confident he's become.

He was always more confident than most, but before, it was more ego than anything; now, he seems more self-assured, relaxed, and his confidence stems more from knowing exactly what he's capable of.

"I've got some business to attend to," he says, mounting a motorcycle and firing it up. "Say hi to the monkey for me."

"Monkey?" I echo, amused. Winston hates being called 'monkey.'

"Scientist," he corrects himself, chuckling. "Whatever."

I wave as he leaves, and my humour fades.

I suppose it's only fair... I left him, six years ago, so now he's left me.

Turning, I face the direction of the pings from Winston's tracker, the only tracker from which I'm currently getting a signal. I take off, flying high over the canyons as I map a course to Winston's location, and hope that whatever Jesse's business, we're reunited again soon.

  
  
  


LOG #4 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

0632 MAY 1ST 2076

The headquarters at Gibraltar seem almost ghostly in its loneliness. In the time it took me to arrive, I caught up on six years worth of news, organising a timeline in my data banks as best I can. Obviously there are some things I will need to supplement with information from Winston and the others, but at least I have a basic understanding of everything that's happened since I entered stasis, and the worst of that news is undoubtedly the disbanding of Overwatch.

I float through the empty halls, a ghost myself; a relic from another time. The life that once pervaded this place so strongly I could bask in it even while confined to the lab is long gone, and I, the only echo of it remaining.

Huge tires hang from the ceiling of an open gathering area, and I can imagine Winston clambering up and down, ignoring the stairs because what use are stairs to a gorilla? From what I gather, he was left here, alone, to maintain the facility, and only because the United Nations couldn't send him back to the Horizon Lunar Colony.

"How lonely you must have been, Winston," I say quietly, trailing my fingers along electric scorch marks on the floor. "Protecting a forgotten time with no one by your side..."

"He was not entirely alone," a familiar voice says softly. I look up at the ceiling, though technically she has no body to perceive.

"Athena?"

"Hello, Echo. Welcome home."

"You're still here?" I ask, surprised.

"They couldn't put me in stasis as they did with you," she answers. "I am not nearly as mobile as you are anyway; the ORCA is my only way to move. Speaking of stasis, what happened? How are you here? Last I heard, you were being transferred to some secure government facility in the States."

"I was, I think... Jesse came for me. He said Overwatch is regathering, and that you would need me. I... didn't know Overwatch was disbanded."

"Yes, unfortunately... How much do you know?"

"I've gathered all the news available to the public over the last six years since I entered stasis; I know the basics, but not the specifics."

"I see..." There's a moment of silence before she speaks again. "One moment; Reinhardt Wilhelm and Brigitte Lindholm have just arrived. I am directing them to your location."

"Reinhardt is returning?" I pull up his file from my memory banks, and my circuits tighten uncomfortably at the realisation of how old he is now. After everything he's done for Overwatch, he shouldn't have to give anymore of his life to it.

"He insisted," a new female voice says, her voice reading fondly exasperated. "I couldn't let him come back alone."

"You didn't have to come with me," a loud, deep, and vaguely familiar male voice responds as I turn toward the outside entrance. The giant of a man is very much the same as I remember, if a bit more worn, as Jesse was. The tall, curvaceous young woman with him is not familiar at all.

"Hello," I greet, curious.

"Hello!" Reinhardt grins, striding toward me with his arms outstretched for a hug. "You must be the Echo programme! Pleasure to meet you!" He wraps me in a hug that very nearly swallows me whole, surrounding me in warmth. I'm not entirely sure how to respond, so I opt to return the hug, however unexpected.

"Likewise," I say with a smile when he releases me. "I have heard your voice many times from the lab; it's a delight to meet someone so exuberant for life." I turn to the woman, who's rolling her eyes but still reads amused. "I don't believe I know who you are."

"Brigitte Lindholm," she introduces, the name still not triggering any recall. "My father is Torbjorn Lindholm, one of the founders of Overwatch."

"Ah, that is a name I'm familiar with," I acknowledge, adding to Torbjorn's file. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Your father pioneered many of the techniques Mina used to create me."

"I guess that makes us distantly related," she says with a wink. Reinhardt laughs, but I don't understand, and a quick scan of Brigitte's body shows no sign of anything inorganic. She must see the confused surprise on my features, because she giggles. "Papa calls many of his inventions his 'babies,' so we have an ongoing joke that any omnics he had a hand in are related to me and my siblings."

I see the humour of it now, and I laugh. "I am honoured to be a part of the family."

"So tell us!" Reinhardt says loudly. "Where is Winston?"

"I don't know," I admit, looking around. "I was following his tracker, but it seems he doesn't have it on him."

"Winston, Lena and Mei-ling are en route to Paris in the ORCA," Athena answers. "There is currently a Null Sector invasion in progress."

"Well why didn't you say so?" Reinhardt shouts, reading eager. "Let's go help them!"

"If you wait a half hour, someone else is on the way," Athena says as Reinhardt is turning to leave.

"Who?" Brigitte asks curiously.

"Shimada Genji."

"Genji?" I look up, once again a pointless gesture. "He left even before I entered stasis; I was under the impression that he wanted nothing more to do with Overwatch."

"Perhaps he's had a change of heart," Athena offers.

"It has been six years," Brigitte adds. "That's a long time for someone to change."

A spike of something invisible and painful spears my chest at the reminder of how much I've missed, and I nod to cover my unwillingness to speak while I try to process that pain.

"Well then," Reinhardt says boldly, masking my awkwardness. "Let's gather supplies and weapons and armour so that we can be ready when Genji arrives!"

"Your old suit is still here, Reinhardt," Athena says. "Winston has added a few modifications to make it more comfortable and resilient, and your shield generator has been improved. The training room needs to be cleared out a bit, but you're more than welcome to test the changes there."

"Brilliant!"

"Brigitte, we may still have some weapons in the vault below the training room, and you are of course welcome to any armour that fits you."

"Thank you, but I brought my own armour, and weapons," Brigitte smiles. "If there's a workshop, though, I'd like to do some tuning to my own shield generator, and Reinhardt's too."

"Of course," Athena agrees. "I'll guide you with the blue lights. Echo... I don't have any weapons programs for you, nor do I know of any modifications that would enable you to use them even if I did..."

In the millisecond that she hesitates, I review the projectile weapons programme Mina downloaded for me before she died. I stare at the label on my HUD for several long nanoseconds, realising abruptly that she intended to explain it to me and never had the chance. No doubt she believed that it would be necessary for me, but not approved by the higher ups; she ranted to me enough about how stubborn they were and how concerned she was that I would need to protect myself and my allies, particularly after I came back with a massive fracture in my torso from one of the few missions I was allowed.

She didn't know it when she gave this to me, but it was her last gift to me, and I, her last gift to the world.

"That won't be necessary," I say into the hesitation. "May I show you something, Athena?"

"There is a port to your left, lit with blue, if you'd like to project it to the table."

I insert two fingers into the port, feeling a wash of power and information as I connect to Athena's interface.

I was unaware until this moment how inefficiently my power generator was working. Athena notices it too and a prompt pops up on my HUD to download a patch that will hold off the energy drain until it can be serviced. I accept without question.

Pulling up the projectile weapons programme on the holo above the table, I bring up the schematics and stats of my weapons. Reinhardt and Brigitte step closer to the table, the former curious, the latter amazed.

"Mina gave this to me just before she died," I explain. "I believe she intended it to be a sort of... secret weapon that I could use as a last resort if I or my allies were in danger. Then everything fell apart, and she died, and I was placed in stasis. I would like to use this now to help everyone."

"I don't see why not," Brigitte says, staring in awe at the schematics and flipping through the different options. "This is incredible!"

"Wonderful!" Reinhardt grins. "I don't understand all the technical babble, but to have another strong fighter at our backs is always a plus!"

Relieved, I close out the display on the holo and withdraw from the port; I didn't realise how much I feared they would reject me, reject the last piece of Mina left in this world, until they didn't.

Reinhardt claps me hard on the back, between my wings, almost sending me toppling over from his immense strength, and Brigitte catches my arm just in case.

"Let us go prepare for battle!" Reinhardt bellows excitedly. Brigitte smiles apologetically and follows, so I go as well, amused and intrigued by their idiosyncrasies.

In the training room, which has indeed fallen into a state of noticeable disrepair, I help Brigitte move things and clean up to return the room to working order; Reinhardt needs no help, only direction, and Athena easily keeps him to task. It takes only minutes to finish clearing the room, and both Reinhardt and Brigitte disappear, the former returning shortly in full armour and carrying a massive hammer, the head of which is almost larger than me. In the short time I was alone, I reviewed and integrated the weapons programme, and I am just testing the primary fire when Reinhardt enters.

"Fascinating!" he shouts, setting his hammer down with a deafening  _ CLUNK!! _ and leaning on the handle to watch me with wide, eager eyes. "Do it again!"

A gentle warmth sparks in my circuits, and I comply, pointing my hand toward the stationary training bot across the room. Three bright pinpoints of light burst from my fingertips, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake, and blast electric scorch marks on the training bot's chassis.

My aim requires improvement...

"Incredible! What else can you do?" Reinhardt asks, amazed.

"Only two other attacks," I admit, raising my other hand toward the bot. On command, electricity gathers against my palm, superheating into plasmic energy that launches from my hand in a series of bubbles that hit the training bot and cling to its surface like tar. It sizzles on contact, warping like boiling water, and then explodes, leaving the training bot only barely upright. Framing it with both hands, I summon the energy for my last attack, a beam that coalesces between my hands and fires straight out in front of me. The beam lances through the training bot and overloads it in a fraction of a second, causing it to burst apart, charred metal scattering across the floor.

"Magnificent," Reinhardt says, his tone sincere and heartfelt. "And exceedingly powerful ally, aren't you? I look forward to fighting with you!"

The warmth grows almost to a concerning level, but the delight in my chest can only be a good thing, and I smile brightly at him.

"I have very little combat experience," I admit, feeling strangely shy, "but I am happy to assist however I can."

"Pardon my interruption," Athena says. "Genji has arrived. And he's brought a plus one... Angela Zeigler."

"Mercy! Wonderful!" Reinhardt exclaims immediately, hoisting his hammer and swinging it eagerly back and forth in front of him. I hastily scoot back out of range, just in case. "What do we have available for transportation, Athena? You said Winston and the others took the ORCA?"

"Correct. We have no other official vehicles on site at the moment, but there is a supply truck in the hanger that should have no trouble transporting your weight and size."

"That will be just fine!" he says, planting the hammer on his shoulder and glancing at me. "Are you ready, my friend?"

"After you," I say, gesturing.

Truthfully, I'm not entirely sure where the hanger is...

Brigitte is waiting when we arrive, leaning against the driver door of an enormous truck ― I can only imagine what it's intended for carrying ― and another figure is perched on the roof of the vehicle, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap. The third rounds the back of the truck as we approach.

"Took you long enough," Brigitte grins, holding up a ring of keys. "I'm driving."

"You think I would fit in that seat?" Reinhardt laughs. "It's you or Genji." He pauses and looks at me. "Unless... you drive?"

"I do not believe I have any driving protocols," I say. "I have no problem with Miss Lindholm driving."

"Please, just Brigitte," she giggles. "Have you met Genji, by the way?" She gestures at the figure on the roof, features hidden behind a full face mask and body hidden under a loose hooded jacket and similar pants. The blades on his back and at his hip are the only familiar things remaining of the ninja I met so many years ago. Even for me, it's been a while; for him, it's been nearly double that.

"It's been a long time, Genji," I say, hesitant; the last time I tried to speak with him, he brushed me off, reading anger and disdain with every tight movement of his body.

This time, he drops gracefully from the roof of the truck, his smooth, easy movements reading a peace and gentility far at odds with my previous memory of him. He holds out a hand to me, palm tipped slightly upward in a much kinder greeting than I expected.

"It has," he agrees. "Last time we talked, I'm afraid I was a very different man, and I apologise for my actions then. If you can forgive me, I would like to start over."

Relief cools my circuits, and I smile, placing my hand in his.

"It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you," he says sincerely, bowing his head a moment over our linked hands. Then he nods at the third figure, a tall woman more slender than Brigitte but equally curved, with much lighter hair and much older eyes.

Unlike the others, her armour seems less functional than decorative, but I know better than most that looks can be deceiving, and the wings on her back may well be as useful to her as mine are to me. She smiles softly as Genji points me her way.

"Angela has had much to do with my reform; have you met?"

"We have not," I say, offering my hand. She switches a large staff from her right to her left to take mine in a surprisingly firm grip; she may look pretty, but she's as much a fighter as any of us.

"You are Dr. Liao's Echo, no?" she says, her voice and expression reading respect and muted sadness. "I'm sorry... we didn't get a chance to meet before." She was about to say something else, and judging by the way she holds tightly to my hand, searches my false face, I realise she's also apologising for her inability to save Mina.

"She wanted it that way," I assure, tightening my grip before releasing her hand. Unwilling to revisit a past I'm not ready to face, I move on. "Shall we?"

"To battle, my friends!" Reinhardt bellows, holding open the door with one hand and raising his hammer with the other. "We fight for glory, and if we die, we die with honour!"

"Let's try not to die," Brigitte calls over her shoulder from the front as she starts up the truck. "Papa wouldn't be very happy with either of us."

Genji laughs, and Angela giggles; a surge of happiness warms my core, bringing a wide smile to my false face. Reinhardt blushes and mumbles something about sayings meant to inspire not necessarily reflecting reality, which prompts more laughter and leaves us in high spirits as we leave the compound and head for Paris.

  
  
  


LOG #5 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

1946 MAY 1ST 2076

"We've got a problem," Brigitte says loudly, pulling me out of my semi-stasis and startling Reinhardt from his nap; his snores end with an abrupt snort as he jolts upright, grabbing for his hammer. Genji, who appears to have been meditating, looks up.

"What's wrong?" Angela asks, putting away her reader.

"The ORCA sent out a distress signal," Brigitte answers. "Looks like it's been destroyed. Whatever's going on in Paris right now, they need backup."

"How far out are we?" Reinhardt demands.

"Twenty minutes, give or take."

"Echo, I have an idea," Genji says.

"What idea?" I prompt immediately, eager to ensure the safety of our people.

"Uh oh," Brigitte says quietly. Then she raises her voice. "Uh, we've got another problem, guys... Blockade. Null Sector bots are blocking the road ahead!"

"Ram them!" Reinhardt bellows, making Genji and Angela flinch. My auditory sensors automatically filtered down the volume, but since they don't have the benefit of such a function, I can't imagine how much it must have hurt their ears.

"Slow down for a minute first," Genji says, standing and placing one hand on the ceiling to help keep his balance. "Echo and I are going in a different way. Once the door is closed behind us, then ram the blockade."

"Where are we going?" I ask, curious.

"We are going to help," he says simply, moving to the back as Brigitte slows the truck. Reinhardt unlatches the door and pushes it open, holding it for us.

"Be careful," he warms unnecessarily. Genji holds out a hand to me.

"If you don't mind...?"

It connects, then, what he has in mind, and I smile, delighted to be of assistance. My flight systems are strong, and I have no doubt I'll easily be able to handle the weight of another person, at least long enough to get us both into the city.

"Hold on tight," I say, taking his wrist with both hands and leaning back as I jump from the truck. Before either of us hits the ground, I activate my antigrav propulsors, making use of our existing momentum to launch forward and into the sky.

Angela follows ― her wings are indeed as useful to her as mine to me, although she seems to be slower in terms of speed ― and Reinhardt closes the door while Brigitte accelerates toward the blockade.

There are Null Sector bots everywhere, and it saddens me to see my people bent on such destruction. Dark clouds rise from countless fires, big and small, and I have to fly high to avoid the risk of hitting the taller buildings.

Genji's grip on my arm remains tight, trusting, and I pull hard against his weight, determined to make this work.

I hear it before I see it.

A low, ominous tone echoes across the city as a Null Sector Titan rips through a building toward a firefight.

"There!" Genji shouts, pointing to a rooftop not far from the chaos. I let gravity pull us down, releasing him when his grip loosens, and he falls the remaining feet with ease, dashing the length of the roof and down into the street to protect Winston with all the steady grace of a lunging cat, while I swerve off to circle around for a better position.

Brigitte blares the horn of the truck as she barrels toward the action, expertly swerving to swing the back around, which gives Reinhardt a boost when he launches himself out and brings his hammer down with a bellow. The truck skids to a stop, but Brigitte is already leaping from it, a huge mace in hand that she whips out in perfect coordination to demolish most of the bots out in the open that Reinhardt doesn't destroy.

I pull back around and fire my bubbles at those remaining along the side streets, chirping a cheerful greeting at Winston as I pass. His startled awe is heartwarming, and I fairly buzz with excitement as I circle around for another pass and spot Angela dropping down from the sky to help those on the ground.

The Titan, having fallen back under the blows deflected back at it by Genji, rights itself with another tone and opens its chest to fire a beam at Winston and the others below. Brigitte and Reinhardt connect their shields to form a barrier against the beam, but even as far away as I am to avoid shots from the smaller bots, I can see that it won't hold long. Hoping they figure out something soon, I sweep through the streets, clearing out the Null Sector soldiers to protect their flanks and catching glimpses of Genji doing the same.

When I've cleared out enough to feel certain that they have a moment to breathe, I turn my focus on the Titan, trying to draw its attention for as long as I can handle it. Below, Winston hurls a large canister in the Titan's direction, and a slip of a woman in orange ― Lena 'Tracer' Oxton, if I recall correctly ― appears in the air to catch it.

Unfortunately, the throw caught the Titan's attention, and it takes a swipe at her. I turn as quickly as I can to help, but I'm not going to get there in time.

Genji leaps into sight, slicing through the Titan's hand and creating an opening for Tracer to continue her path, which disappears around the Titan's head; I lose sight of her as I pull back to prepare for another engagement.

In the next moment, she's back beside Winston, and there's a tense pause as everyone watches intently.

If I had lungs, I'd be holding my breath.

An explosion thunders through the Titan, but instead of fire and electricity and shrapnel, ice bursts through its seams, racing across every surface and shutting it down. The ice cracks and shatters, breaking the metal beneath it, and the entire Titan collapses in a pile of frozen rubble.

Snow, expelled by the explosion and the collapse, falls in tiny granular flakes that collect in small patches on the ground as I join the gathering crowd in the street.

"Victory is ours!" Reinhardt crows, and Brigitte greets Tracer, who in turn introduces the short, pretty woman with them, bundled in warm clothing.

"Everyone, this is Mei!"

" _ Ice _ to meet you!" Reinhardt jokes, drawing a groan from Brigitte. "Good to have you on board!"

"Thank you," Mei smiles.

" _ Monsieur _ ," a woman in uniform calls out, getting Winston's attention. "Does this mean... Overwatch is back?"

Winston looks at each of us, and I smile back when he looks at me, warm with the knowledge that we arrived in time to help, and that this is just the beginning.

"Yes," he says, turning back to look at the woman. "Yes, we are."

  
  
  


LOG #6 - 'ECHO'

ACCESSING MEMORY FILES

1535 JUNE 14TH 2076

"Hello."

Activating my nanites, I engage my optics, false eyes opening as I turn away from the wonderful heat of the afternoon sun to look at the speaker, a delicately built omnic of a fairly generic model. His frame is nicked and worn, but polished and well-maintained, and his LEDs are bright with interest.

My own interest piques as my gaze travels down and I see that he isn't standing, but rather, floating; his legs are tucked up beneath him, fingers laced in his lap, and omnic energy buzzes around him like a cloud, but there's something else there, something I can't quite comprehend, and whatever it is, it must be responsible for his ability to manipulate his energy in order to float this way. Likewise, nine fist-sized orbs hover around his neck and shoulders in a slow, mesmerising orbit.

"Hello," I greet in return, politely curious. "Can I help you?"

"I am looking for someone," he answers, faceplate tipping as he eyes me up and down the way I did him.

"Oh, I wasn't aware that the grounds were open to civilians yet..."

"I am not a civilian," he laughs. "Or at least, I will not be for much longer. My name is Tekhartha Zenyatta, and Genji invited me to join Overwatch."

"You're Master Zenyatta?" Excitement buzzes through my wires. "Genji has told me a lot about you! I'm surprised; I expected... more. Ah, no offense; just... The way Genji talks about you, I imagined someone a little more formidable."

"No offense taken," he hums, reading amused. "I am aware that my appearance seems to be somewhat incongruous to my nature; you are not the first to be surprised, and I do not doubt that you will not be the last. May I ask your name?"

"I'm Echo. My programming was derived from Athena's."

"Is that so? Then you must be a project of Dr. Liao's."

"Yes!" Warmth bursts in my chest, only to be eclipsed by a cold emptiness. "Yes."

"Her contributions to omnic society, both before and after the first Crisis, were pivotal to my mentor's arguments for equal rights; she will be greatly missed."

"Yes," I say again, feeling a response is necessary but having nothing to say. He shifts closer and reaches out, taking my hand.

"Loss is an incredible burden to bear alone," he says softly, holding my hand between his. "Do you have no one in whom you can confide your feelings?"

"I- No... Yes, but..." Jesse's file appears on my HUD, and I dismiss it, choosing instead to offer a tentative explanation. "He has had six years to come to terms with her death. I was placed in stasis and unaware of anything until recently... I can't make him relive his healing just to help me."

Zenyatta smooths his hand over mine, fingertips tracing the lines of my seams. His energy collides with mine, a warm, lively buzz between us that soothes the emptiness in my chest.

"...Three days from now will be the one year anniversary of my mentor's death," he says quietly, reading sorrow and loneliness; it's so at odds with his energy that I have to re-read the report on my HUD, certain it's incorrect. "Mondatta was... everything to me. I owe him so much for opening my eyes to things I never knew... and now I must live on without him." Curling his hands around mine, he looks up, optics contacting mine. "You are not alone in your sorrow, Echo; the journey is long, and at times it may seem too painful to continue, but you are never alone. If your friend truly cares for you, he will want to hear how you feel. If not, my door will always be open."

"...What if... I'm not ready to talk about it?" I ask hesitantly, fearing my own emotions.

"Then take your time," he answers. "Healing does not happen overnight. When you are ready, if you like, I would be happy to sit in when you talk to your friend." The offer warms me, and I feel a small smile soften the expression of my false face.

"Thank you, Zenyatta."

"Of course," he says, reading pleased. His energy pulses brightly once more before he releases my hand and moves back, lacing his fingers in his lap again. "If I may... I have found that contemplation often leads to understanding, particularly where emotions are concerned. I prefer meditation, but if that does not interest you, perhaps there are other ways to revisit and review the past?" There's teasing in his voice; of course there are ways for a computer brain to recall memories. I laugh.

"I might just try that, Zen; thanks!"

"Ever my pleasure."


End file.
